Get her Home
by 95sparky95
Summary: Bomber is struggling to cope, but will her distactions cost her her life?


I sat staring at the computer screen before me. I hated this system, forcing me to sort out all the problems of my younger sister. The care system had spat me out three years previously and I had thrived away from it. My younger sister, now 14, was still in its grip. As I read the email though, my frown disappeared and was replaced with tears welling in my eyes.

_Hi Becka,_

_I'm afraid I've got some really bad news. This morning Liz died in a car crash on the way back from dropping me at school. The doctor I spoke to said it was really quick and she didn't suffer, which is good I guess. _

_I tried to call, but the Navy office said that your boat was open only to emergency calls since you were on operation. The Foster System were going to send you a formal letter to tell you, but I said that since I'm your sister, and she was basically our mum for the last 16 years, that I had to be the one to tell you, so they relented. _

_They've moved me back into a care home, apparently temporarily, but because I'm 14 I guess I'll be here got a long while yet – no one wants rebellious teens... _

_Anyway, please try and call me, I really need to talk to someone whose not an underpaid, bored care worker and you will do nicely!_

_Miss you so much, love you,_

_Lexi. _

I had lived with the Taylors for fourteen years, and she was the closest thing to a mother I ever had. It was where I had spent all my Christmases and holidays since I had left the system and my sister still lived there. I could only imagine how she was feeling, once again stuck in the home that had made us feel so abandoned at the tender ages of seven and two. Lizzie did not remember it so much, but I did, and shivered to think of her alone there now. I would have to request more shore leave when we got back to port, and this wasn't going to help my chances of a promotion. I hadn't told anyone of my past and current situation. It was too messy and complicated, and the sympathy made my skin crawl.

The door to the office opened harshly and the X burst in. 'Are you deaf? Didn't you hear the order for the boarding party to stand by?!' she spoke sharply. I mumbled an apology and turned to the computer to begin logging out. 'There's no time for that, we're going NOW.' She yelled. I stood up and walked past her, too preoccupied to care about my telling off.

We were boarding a FFV that we had been following for a while. The CO thought it was a drug smuggler, and recent observations seemed to have confirmed that – a hand over between two vessels just beyond the line. It had then proceeded into Australian waters and was heading for Cairns. The order had just come through from NAVCOM that we could board. I was to be one of the first on; it was a routine action and we all new our places. I was to secure the Bridge whilst X and Dutchy sent everyone to the bow. Dutchy and 2dads would then search below whilst RO and X watched the crew and I searched the rest of the deck.

We drew up along side and I jumped over the rail, heading straight to the wheelhouse. I could hear the others behind me acting out their roles. There was a man standing in the bridge, watching the action. 'Excuse me sir' I asked 'could you make your way own to the bow?' he didn't move. I asked again, shouting now. He still didn't move. I took a step towards him and suddenly he spun around, holding a pistol tightly in his fist. We were close together, and I could feel his breath on my face. 'Don't move' he whispered, pressing the gun to my stomach. Then he grabbed by arm and spun me around, placing his arm around my neck and using me as a shield. Then he pulled out a knife and pressed it to my neck. I could feel a trickle of blood welling. He dragged me out of the bridge and forced me onto the deck. There were four crew members standing beside the X and RO, and on seeing me they turned and attacked. I shouted out in warning but it was too late; they were overcome and pinned down. Dutchy and 2dads erupted from below and began to tackle the men. X and RO fought back and together they managed to reach the rib which was waiting near. Dutchy then dived at the man who was holding me. He laughed and dodged, bringing up his pistol and holing it to my head, his finger on the trigger. Then he raised it and smashed it down on my head, sending me crashing to the floor unconscious.

'We have to get back on!' 2dads was yelling at the X, who sat useless in the rib. He tried to jump back onto the boat but Dutchy grabbed him and swore loudly as 2dads fought back.

'leave it you idiot. They'll do more damage if we fight back now.' They had been forced back, pressured by the gun pointing at point blank range at Bombers skull. Then the engine had been shot, making it useless. The vessel had steamed away, much faster than a normal fishing boat, and they were left waiting for Hamersley to pick them up. The X sighed.

'We can't do anything. Wait till the CO has an update and we can form a decent plan.'

Back on Hamersley, in the bridge, chaos reigned.

'why was she so unfocused? This should never have happened. What the hell went wrong?!' the CO was furious. Everyone was. Bomber was one of the friendliest members of the crew and everyone knew and loved her. 'Alright' he shouted 'we will stay below the horizon and watch on the EPA, wait for the right moment to board'. The crew settled down. Content that they now had a plan of action.

X made her way to the communications room, joining RO in the small space. He was looking intently at the glowing screen and beckoned X to come a join him.

'This is Bomber's account; I think she must have left it on when the call to board came.'

'Yes, she did' X responded, 'I told her there wasn't time'.

'You should look at this email; I think it explains why she was so unfocused this morning.'

The X read it carefully twice then swore softly. 'We have to get her back alright. There is no choice, we can't do this to her sister'.

I woke suddenly and painfully. I found myself tied to the top of the sun shelter next to the dinghy, with my head lying in a small pool of blood. I sat up slowly, blinking as I saw stars. 'She's awake!' someone shouted. 'Good' came the reply. 'Get her to untie the boat and pass it down.' A young man in a vest and shorts came up to me, pointed his rifle and my head, muttering threateningly 'you heard him. We are going to the island.' He then went under the cover again. I heard then talking, chilled as they discussed their plans so openly.

I slowly untied it. It was hard with only one arm – the other was still ties to the sun roof rail. I was about to start on the last knot when I had an idea. Using the blood that had pooled around me I write on the white roof; GOING TO ISLAND. TAKING DRUGS. BOAT A DECOY. Then I released the last knot and let the boat thump down onto the deck. I heard one of the men shout as it knocked into him.

I was pulled roughly down, someone cutting the rope that tied me to the boat and replacing it with a rope that bound both wrists together. They pushed me into the bottom of the dingy and climbed in together, before the last man pushed us into the water. Then he jumped in after us and we began to paddle away from the boat that had been left on autopilot. Seeing a chance I jumped up, ready to dive overboard. I threw myself over the rubber side, feeling the cold embrace of the sea. Then I jerked backwards, a vice like grip around my ankle. I was once more dragged into the boat. Shivering, I huddled in the stern, but the oldest man came up to me. He was sneering and holding his pistol, pointing it at me. I looked him hard in the eye, determined not to be a coward, and his arm jerked. I felt a stab of pain in my head, and nothing more.

The boarding party had decided to use the island's headland as cover, and had been slowly creeping up on the boat. They threw caution to the wind and powered up as fast as they could, jumping on chaotically and covering the boat. Dutchy was the first to admit it. 'They aren't here guys. 2dads check the dinghy.' 2dads climbed up onto the sun roof and swore loudly. 'What is it?' X demanded. 'The dinghy's gone, and there's a lot of blood. Wait... hang on, I think it says something. Yea, here, look.' Dutchy climbed up as well and read out the massage that had been smeared in red. 'Right. They're on the island. Let's go!' The rib, now filled with Dutchy, 2dads, X, Swain, RO and Bird once more left the vessel, but rather than heading back to Hamersley they went straight for the island.

I woke in discomfort. My hands were tightly bound in front of me, and I had been left in a heap that gave me a stiff neck. I lay listening to the fierce argument that was going on outside. 'What the hell did you bring her for? Get rid of her.' I shuddered, knowing they meant me. Then I heard the young guy argue back; 'She could be useful, I think we should use her.' I prayed he would listen, but no such luck; 'No, she's too much of a risk. Dispose of her. Do it quietly, no guns – unless we want to give away our position.' I jumped to my feet, ignoring the massive head rush and stumbled back, trying to get out of the tent before it was too late. Then the flap in the front opened and the largest of the men came in, brandishing a lethal looking knife. He frowned when he saw I was awake; 'shame, would have been much nicer for you if you were unconscious. Oh well, doesn't mean I can't have my fun.' He lunged at me clumsily, and I dodged, nearly loosing my balance. He growled and pushed me into a corner, leaving me trapped between a canvas wall and a low bed. Once again he dived forward. I tried to dodge the blade but didn't have enough space and I felt a blaze of pain as the knife entered my left side near my stomach and came out near my right hip. I moaned in pain, startled to see the bright red liquid flow out of me. The attacker backed off. He seemed to think that he'd done enough to bring me down, and I took advantage of his mistake. I jumped at him and he reacted by holding up the blade. I aimed my wrists for it and felt the knife shred the rope that bound them. At the same time I felt the tip of the knife bite into my right wrist, and the instant flow of blood that gave away the severity of the cut. Grabbing the knife with my left hand I rammed it into his stomach, not waiting to see him fall I ran, I slipped under the canvas back of the tent.

I ran blindly, waiting for discovery, and it wasn't long before I heard shouts; 'find that bitch!'. I ran faster, finally stopping in the roots of a tree and looking back. I groaned out loud – I had been leaving a clear trail of blood the whole way. I looked down and saw my entire torso drenched in blood, and a trail dripping down my arm. Pressing my arm to my chest I helped stop the drip, not making my path quite so obvious. My head was beginning to spin, my body ready to give up, but my mind would not let me stop, so I kept on running. I knew I somehow had to get back to Hammersley, but I could only focus on getting away from the guns behind me. Then I realised that if they had all left the camp to chase me, I could double back to the camp, and from there to the shore, where I could be rescued. This plan rested on a lot of 'ifs'. The camp may not be empty, and if that was the case I may have walked straight to my death. If I managed to reach the shore, the others may not have even seen my message and could be looking anywhere. Despite this, it was my only option and so, with my heart pounding I found a hollow in a tree that was covered by a huge bush, and waited for the men to pass me.

After 10 minutes I was convinced that they had in fact seen me hide and were waiting, surrounding the tree, for I could not believe that they were so far behind me. By now my vision was blurred and I could barely stand straight, such was my exhaustion. The time spent hiding was time relaxing, and the adrenaline had began to fade, leaving me curled in agony as waves of pain coursed through my stomach and my head throbbed relentlessly. Then, suddenly, I heard movement, the sound of leaves being crunched, and my heart nearly stopped. At once the adrenaline began to course once more and slowly I could unfurl as the pair began to dissipate. Then I heard a voice, so close that I nearly gasped in shock, right next to the bushes that concealed me was the man who had held the knife. He was calling to someone else; 'I think she's getting away, we need to hurry up!' An angry response came back through the trees 'of course she's not getting away you idiot; it's a bloody island isn't it. Let's keep going'.

Once the muffled sound of steps had entirely faded and what felt like a minute had passed, I began to creep out of the bushes. Looking around and seeing no one I began to jog as fast as my knackered and bleeding body would allow.

The crew had arrived on the shore and were slowly spreading out, slipping into the dense forest like shadows, weapons readily aimed and tensely searching for any sign of the kidnapping drug traffickers. Dutchy was stepping slowly, his heart in his mouth, praying with all his heart that they would not be too late. He had seen the ruthlessness of these men and others like them and knew they would stop at nothing. A faint crackle came over the radio, just audible on its lowest volume; 'I think I can see a camp about 100 meters ahead'. Dutchy squinted his eyes and sure enough he could just make out the light canvas side of a tent. Instinctively the group began to spread out, circling the encampment as fast as they dared, ready to react instantly to any possible attack. Then, as they began to close in, Dutchy heard a clear rustle of leaves several meters to his right and turned, flicking the safety of his rifle and bringing his finger to the trigger.

I couldn't get to the shore. I couldn't even reach the camp. My body could no longer obey my brain and simply crumpled, not even making an effort to disguise itself. As I lay there I began to notice moving shapes, but did not have the energy to even think about the significance, or indeed the possible danger. Then, slowly, it began to sink in and my brain began to slowly wind back to life as I realised they were my crew. I tried to whisper to them, but my mouth was so dry not a sound came out. Instead I moved my hand, squeezing a handful of leaves that gave a loud crunch. Then I saw the muzzle of a gun face me and nearly laughed. Imagining I had just told my kidnappers my location. However nothing happened, the gun just stared at me and I stared back, unable to move. Then I heard the distinctive squeak of radio static and Dutchy's clear voice; 'I've found Bomber, repeat, 'I've found Bomber.' And then he was beside me, pressing his water canteen to my lips, letting me slowly regain my speech, and pressing his large hands to my stomach. I was amazed that he even had to do that, I was sure that I had no blood left and it had stopped bleeding ages ago. He began to pick me up, but a spasm of pain rolled through my body and I whimpered loudly. He began to whisper to me; 'It's alright Bomber, we've got you now, It'll all be alright, I promise.'

I licked my lips and whispered back; 'Sorry, I'm sorry for all this. I was stupid.' It was all I could think, and until I got those words out, nothing else made sense.

Dutchy merely smiled; 'you've nothing to be sorry about, we found you and that's all that matters. But now, what caused this stomach wound, and is there any other injuries I should now about?'

'it was a knife. I think it cut my hand too, and my head to a bit of a beating' I muttered, my eyes closed as he began to walk back towards the shore, the others slowly forming an arc around him, protecting him since he could no longer carry his gun.

Then, out of the blue, I heard the whip crack of a bullet and the responding volley of my own crew. Dutchy jumped and the movement made me yell in pain, he whispered an apology, but now he was running and every jarring stepped caused an involuntary groan. My head began to grow black, but Dutchy would not let me rest, bombarding me with pointless questions that he made me listen to. Then I felt his steps grow softer and realised we had reached the shore, and I let myself begin to hope again.

He called out to the rest of the group; 'X, when everyone's on the shore I think we should use Hamersley's gun'. She agreed and I heard a blast of radio static as she gave the command to the CO, and within seconds the trees that edged the beach exploded with shudders from the rapid gunfire. The group slowly convened in the rib and Dutchy laid me on the floor, reaching for his rifle and firing blindly into the tree line until 2dads was able to start the engine and take us to a safe distance. The silence that came with the ceasefire was a godsend, and within seconds the black that had been hovering around my head drifted in.

Her face was a stark grey, a shocking contrast to the crimson blood that matted in her hairline, and was drenching her uniform and bare skin. At once Dutchy began to put pressure on her stomach once more and 2dads took hold of her sliced hand, pressing his own over the deep gash. The crew were silent as they observed the severity of her condition, although not medics they were beginning to feel a sense of despair. The second the rib settled on board Hamersley Swain was there with a stretcher. Dutchy gently lowered her onto it and together they took her to the Medic's room. Ten minutes later Dutchy came to the bridge, where the rest of the crew sat, speaking only when necessary.

'She's lost too much blood and Swain says she needs a transfusion so her heart can keep beating. Is anyone B+ blood type?' Everyone checked their dog tags and 2dads jumped up. 'I am, you can use mine' and so together they went down to the makeshift hospital. 2dads shuddered when he saw her, and as Swain inserted the line that connected her to him he muttered 'She looks to ill. What do you think Swain?'

He looked grim, but his answer was not negative. We have managed to stop the bleeding, so your blood won't be wasted and with a bit of luck it will begin to fix her body. I can also stitch her hand and that should no longer be a problem. I'm worried about her head but I can't do anything about it and there is no need for immediate concern so I have bandaged it and left it. her abdomen is the biggest problem. The knife probably went through her intestine and possibly her appendix, but again, I don't have the means to check or do anything about it, so I'm just monitoring her until we get in range for a medivac.


End file.
